Page 119 of The Black Trilogy

“For goodness’ sake, tell him he’s mistaken.”

On the way over, I’d had a graphics wizard on the marketing team put together a mock-up of the suspect standing in Luke’s living room, and he’d done a remarkably good job. Suspect number one glowered back from among the chintz as I pulled the photo up on my phone screen and handed it over.

Mrs. H-C leaned forward, squinting, then huffed.

“Well, I’ll admit there’s a similarity, but that’s all it is. A similarity. I think I’d remember having a third child, don’t you?” She focused back on me, her eyes tiny slits. “Why are you here, anyway? Did you get lost on the way back to your street corner?”

So far, I’d done my best to be semi-polite, what with it being Luke’s mother and all. But now the gloves were off.

“Why am I here? Isn’t it obvious? Luke reckons you’ve been hiding things from him, and he’s so furious he can’t even bring himself to speak to you.”

“Nonsense. Luke would never stop speaking to me. I’m his mother.”

She fetched her own phone from her handbag, and I suppressed a smile as she dialled Luke. I just about managed to keep a straight face as she got cut off once, twice, three times. Thanks, Nicky.

“I don’t understand,” she said, glaring at the screen.

Time for some fun.

“So if the kid isn’t yours, who else was your husband messing around with? Some sweet little piece who gave him what you couldn’t? Because having breathed the same air as you for a few minutes, I can see why he’d look elsewhere.”

Come on lady, get angry. Let something slip.

“You little trollop! I gave my husband everything he needed. He knew I was the best he’d ever get, and he’d never have swapped someone with my breeding for a cheap thrill. Now, get out of my house!”

“Even heifers have a pedigree. That doesn’t mean men want to do the nasty with them.”

My cheek stung where she slapped me, and I resisted the urge to pound her face into the coffee table.

“Get out! Just get out!” she screeched. “My husband only had eyes for me.”

She shoved me towards the hallway, heels clacking on the wooden floor. Rats! She genuinely seemed to believe what she was saying, which meant we needed to come at this problem from a different angle.

As I neared the door, it opened before me. Mrs. Squires held the handle, a self-satisfied smirk spread across her ferrety face. A smirk mixed with smugness—she’d clearly heard every word.

But something was missing. Surprise.

What had Tia told me about Mrs. Squires a while back? Her voice played over in my head: I’m sure she’s only around because she has too much dirt on Mother to fire.

She knew! The old dragon knew.

Instead of walking out the front door, I turned right into another sitting room, this one decorated in muted shades of green and peach. Kind of like the vomit one saw outside a nightclub offering 2-for-1 shots on a Friday evening.

“Where are you going?” dragon-lady asked. “Mrs. Halston-Cain told you to leave.”

“I thought we’d have a chat first.”

“I have nothing to talk to you about.”

Her tone was haughty, but she refused to meet my eyes. Worried about something?

“Yes, you do. All I want are the names, and then I’ll leave.”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Fair enough. But if you don’t spill, I’ll make your life so miserable your nightmares will seem like a happy place. I’ll have a team of investigators rake through your entire history, and when they find out who you’ve been blackmailing, and why, and how much for, I’ll tear you apart for it. With tweezers.” I said it with a smile, but my tone stayed icy. “And I’ll take pleasure in every moment.”

Please let my guess be right. From what Tia had said, there must be some blackmail involved somewhere.

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